


Heart's Day in Spades

by Zeplerfer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cardverse, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/pseuds/Zeplerfer
Summary: In the Hearts Kingdom, lovers celebrate Heart’s Day every year by sharing food. However, when the Prince of Spades tries to enjoy the holiday, it doesn’t go quite as planned.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 57





	Heart's Day in Spades

The left side of the four-poster bed was empty when Arthur awoke. Still half-asleep, he stretched out his arm, expecting to find a warm body slumbering next to him. Instead, the blankets were cold. Early morning light filtered into the bedchamber through the curtains, but it couldn’t be much past dawn because the servants had not yet arrived to rouse them from bed with breakfast and tea. Arthur waited a few minutes, expecting his husband to return from the privy at any moment, but no one came.

Annoyed and a little concerned, Arthur pulled back the warm blankets and climbed out of his cozy bed and into the chilly winter air. The coals in the fireplace had died down to a few embers. Arthur added a fresh log and stoked the fire. He smiled to himself, relishing the opportunity to tend to his own needs without a servant hovering over him. It was a pleasant reminder of days long past. He selected a purple tunic and dun breeches from the wardrobe and—certain that his actions would horrify his valet—dressed himself. Arthur glanced at his messy hair in the vanity, decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, and padded off in search of his husband.

As Arthur suspected, the privy was empty. The entire castle seemed empty, in fact, like it had fallen under a sleep spell. Arthur frowned, then shook his head at his wild musings. The castle was quiet because it was the early morning and everyone was still abed. Arthur would return to his own warm bed as soon as he found his husband. The kitchen was the next logical place to check. If his husband wasn’t _emptying_ his body, then he was probably _filling_ it instead. Arthur headed along the cold, stone corridors to the kitchens and found his quarry cursing next to the bread oven.

“Rise, you pissing lump of flour!” Alfred shouted as he used a wooden tool to push something further into the oven.

From the doorway, Arthur blinked in surprise. Both Alfred and the kitchen were a mess. Alfred’s lovely dark blue tunic was covered with white dustings of flour and various pots and pans lay strewn about the room. It looked like burglars had ransacked the room, only to discover that it held nothing of value. Even more curiously, the cooks and scullery maids who should have been preparing a delectable breakfast that morning were nowhere to be found. Arthur examined the scene with a furrowed frown. “What are you doing and where is everyone?” he asked.

Alfred whirled around in surprise. “Arthur! You’re supposed to be asleep!”

“So are you,” Arthur reminded his husband as he stepped into the messy kitchen. He glanced at the ingredients on the counter. Next to the opened bags of flour were broken egg shells and a pitcher of milk. “Are you… baking bread?”

“I’m trying to make scones,” Alfred replied with a sigh.

“Why?” Arthur asked. “I’m sure Mrs. Campbell would be happy to make you a batch.”

Alfred grinned sheepishly. “Well, today’s a holiday in Hearts,” he explained. “You’re supposed to make breakfast for your lover.”

“You’re the Prince of _Spades_ ,” Arthur replied, eyebrow raised.

“I know.” Alfred laughed. “I thought it would be a nice surprise. I gave the servants the day off so I could make you breakfast myself. I figured—how hard could it be?”

Arthur peered into the oven and examined the flat, circular lumps of dough slowly baking above the red-hot coals. They didn’t look particularly appetizing, but at least it was pleasantly warm near the oven. Arthur shook his head fondly and smiled at his husband. Alfred’s noble upbringing had left him helpless in the kitchen, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. “Perhaps it would be better if we baked something together,” Arthur suggested.

“Yes!” Alfred beamed ecstatically.

After removing Alfred’s failed scones from the bread oven and putting them in the slop buckets to be fed to the pigs, Arthur surveyed the ingredients and showed Alfred how to measure the flour, sugar, salt, and a tiny amount of potash in a wooden bowel. The flour had to be sifted and weighed. The sugar pounded, then rolled fine and weighed.

“Then you cut in _cold_ butter, like this,” Arthur explained, taking a quarter pound of butter from the icebox, adding it to the bowl, and cutting it into tiny, pea-shaped crumbles using two knives held at an angle. After demonstrating the technique, he gave the knives to Alfred and watched approvingly as his husband slowly mixed the butter into the flour mixture. While Alfred finished with the butter, Arthur cracked an egg and whipped it in a cup of milk until he had created a frothy concoction. He poured just enough into the mixing bowl to dampen the dough, then added a cup of dried currants. He let Alfred stir the sticky dough until the ingredients had all blended together. “But be careful not to overmix,” Arthur cautioned.

Once the dough was ready, Arthur scooped it out of the bowl and shaped it into a circle on a metal sheet. He cut it into eight triangular wedges. As Arthur shaped the scones and sprinkled a bit of raw sugar on top, Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist from behind and placed a soft kiss on Arthur’s neck. “I love you,” Alfred whispered.

“Because I can actually bake?” Arthur teased.

Alfred feathered kisses along Arthur’s neck. “No, because you’re you. I don’t tell you often enough, but it’s true.”

“I love you, too,” Arthur replied as he leaned backward into Alfred’s strong embrace and sighed happily. “It’s nice to have some time to ourselves.” He was halfway tempted to kiss Alfred senseless and forgot about the scones entirely.

“Mmm,” Alfred agreed as he nuzzled Arthur’s neck, his mind clearly on the same track. But their plans were interrupted by a loud rumble from Alfred’s stomach. Alfred flushed and let go.

“I’d best put these in the oven before you starve, love,” Arthur said with a smile.

“Hold on a second. I have an idea.” Alfred grinned and pressed the circular edge of each scone inward, adding two lobes to each wedge until he had created eight _heart_ -shaped scones. He placed the scones in the bread oven and then turned back to face Arthur. “Now… where were we?” Alfred asked with a smirk.

Arthur smiled right back at him and gestured toward the mess in the kitchen. “You, my love, were going to clean up while the scones finish baking.”

“But it’s a holiday!” Alfred pouted.

“Surely you don’t intend to give the servants a day off and then make them clean a messy kitchen when they return?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I suppose not.” Alfred sighed and started cleaning the dishes and putting away pots and pans.

Arthur washed the sticky dough from his hands, then filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove. As the water heated up, Arthur returned the ingredients to their proper places in the pantry and Alfred wiped the counter with a damp rag. By the time the water boiled, they had managed to return the kitchen to a reasonable approximation of cleanliness. Arthur prepared a cup of tea and then examined the scones. The tops were a lovely shade of golden brown.

“Are they ready?” Alfred asked eagerly, bouncing up and down on his feet.

“I think so.” Using the wooden tool to reach the back of the oven, Arthur removed the scones and set them on the counter. He gave them a moment to cool, then split one open with his hands. Arthur offered half to Alfred and they each took a bite at the same time. The inside was flaky and moist, while the outside crumbled perfectly in Arthur’s mouth. The currants added the right touch of sweetness. Arthur sighed happily. The heart-shaped scone couldn’t compare to the work of a master baker, but they were fresh and warm and made with love.

“Amazing!” Alfred cried as he grabbed another and popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and smiled blissfully. As Alfred finished chewing the scone, Arthur leaned over and kissed his husband on the lips. Alfred opened his eyes and smiled wider. “What do you say we take these upstairs and stay in bed all day?”

“I think that sounds wonderful,” Arthur agreed. As much as it pained him to say it, he admitted, “Perhaps Hearts has some good ideas after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Hope everyone wanted to celebrate with some cardverse fluff where *Arthur* is the one who can actually bake :)
> 
> Heart's Day is a Valentine's Day knock-off from the Elder Scrolls games.
> 
> I tried to make the kitchen vaguely accurate for a historical setting. Potash is a precursor to baking soda. I'm definitely not an expert, so I blame any inaccuracies on the fantasy setting.


End file.
